1989 New threats have arisen. Beyond the confines of the United Kingdom, in Pulp City, Supremes soar through skies that have witnessed the spearhead of invasions, from the dark of space and from places beyond the veil of reality. Yet Pulp City is not alone in facing these threats, and in recent times across the world more and more empowered champions have emerged anew. From an ancient temple in Latin America the might of Solar is unleashed. In Poland an ancient power raises the force of storms. And in the United Kingdom, Sovereign, her greatest champion – a figure of legend for so long – has returned to defend his beloved nation once more, even if that means once more facing rising threats on distant shores.

1945 30th April, in the ruins of Berlin, a once-great city reduced to a shadow of its former self. The last days of the Greater German Reich and bedlam reigned over the failing forces of that crumbling would-be empire. Near to the Reichhstag, where Soviet soldiers advanced, two men were locked in desperate battle, one on the ground, his enemy the ace of the sky. No quarter was asked and none was given. There was a strange respect within the enmity between Sovereign and the Red Baron. Many would claim in later years to have witnessed their terrible battle, but few truly did so. Time and again the Red Baron strafed the ground where Sovereign stood, flying low in his Ghostly Tri-plane. As shots ploughed up the ground around him and then ripped wounds into his body, the British Supreme simply would not fall. At last, Sovereign returned fire with the ray-gun he had acquired the year before from an unearthly visitor, his shot one of extreme brilliance, smashing the ethereal plane to the ground. The leering skull-faced Red Baron rose from the dissolving plane-wreck to face his foe. A quiet descended as they stared at one another before unleashing a torrent of fire. Those few true witnesses retreated at the overwhelming fusillade, but afterwards it was clear that the Red Baron was broken, his remains spirited into the night. And of Sovereign there was as with every other time he had appeared, simply no trace.

1916 July 1st – dispatches record the worst single day of combat losses ever suffered by the British Army. With 60, 000 casualties, mayhem descended upon brave men who strode forth towards enemy positions and guns, bullets and bombs blasting all around, seeking to take territory inch by bloody inch. Amid the carnage there were snatched reports of a red-coated soldier – red perhaps from blood some suggest – hit with felling wounds only to rise, again and again. Those bewildered missives recorded this man’s unrelenting progress. The road to Contalmaison beyond La Boisselle was vital, and it was here that the legends told from fathers to sons in later generations would spring strongest. Of a soldier in a red military coat, sword in one hand, sidearm in the other. The man raged forwards against the artillery that rained down, mown down only to stand time after time, pressing his advance until he was finally lost to sight among billowing clouds of smoke and debris. They had witnessed the impossible, a man so unbending that it took hundreds, maybe thousands of guns to cease his inexorable advance. His indomitability inspired them all.

1888 A fog of fear swathed the streets of London in chilly late November, and with the coming of each night that terror struck into the heart of the citizens of the great metropolis. But within the overcrowded warrens of small dark streets branching like blood vessels through the district, the greatest suffering, filth and danger was to be found. And amid that suffering borne by the poverty-stricken and those struck low, a predator crept, deadly blade in hand. Five times he had struck, and five lives were snuffed out with gruesome end. As Sovereign walked those deprived and depraved streets he sternly vowed that this beast – this Ripper – would take no more lives. Drawn to his quarry through grimy back-streets, seemingly through nothing more than the force of his own determination, Sovereign finally happened upon his foe. Dressed in black garments, this Ripper was a shadowy figure, indistinct but awash in palpable cruelty. The Ripper towered over a terrified street-walker, his arm rose to deliver a final flourishing slash with which to take another life. Wasting no time, Sovereign drew his sidearm and blasted the blade from the monster’s hand. As the poor, frightened young woman fled that scene which could have marked her own death, she saw the grim-set countenance of her red-coated savior as he stalked towards London’s most infamous criminal as the bloody-handed Ripper drew another blade and thrust at her savior. She ran then, she ran for her life. The young woman would tell her tale the next day, dragging a local constable to the spot where she said she was attacked. However, of the brave red-coated soldier who rescued her and the man who would have butchered her there was no trace, save a pool of blood that trickled into the shabby gutter.

1812 Deep beneath the War Office on Horse Guards Avenue, three men met in a dimly lit room. One wore the vestments and insignia of a British Army General. Beside the general there stood a civilian man, wiry–framed and clearly nervous. The third man appeared the oldest of the three. He was bearded and he wore simple robes and a golden sigil hung from a chain around his neck. “Has Captain Cornwell agreed to this?” asked the robed man. His tone was enquiring, but betrayed that he strongly anticipated the answer. “Yes, he has,” replied the general with a nod. The civilian next to him tugged at his own collar as the general spoke. “And he gives of himself willingly? He understands what it is that you ask of him?” continued the enquiring man in the robes, emphasizing the word ‘you’ as he stared first at the civilian and then at the general. His gaze was dark and piercing. “And the Shadow Chamber supports this? The Government supports this?” the robed man continued, allowing a pause before asking his most telling question “The King supports this?” “We are to proceed,” replied the nervous civilian, careful to not directly answer the questions. Ever a civil servant, the man knew how to deftly choose his words. “Be sure, General Bean and Mr. Armitage, that this will be a most terrible sacrifice,” as he spoke the robed man enunciated clearly and firmly the word ‘sacrifice’ before continuing “And that Captain Cornwell, if he survives and the ritual succeeds, will have suffered a terrible three-fold death. He will experience the pain of three deaths most horrid, as he is drowned, hanged and finally burned within a wicker man, and when he is reborn he will never be able to be destroyed. Each time from then on that he dies anew he will suffer each death again, and again be reborn. And in doing this, you will have created an instrument that may be more powerful than you are able to control.” At this General Bean leaned forwards. He knew of sacrifice, of sending men to certain death. He had done it many times and he would do so again. This druid’s pronouncements were on the life of one man. The General looked to save many more in a grinding attritional war against the armies of Napoleon, and the life of one man to save many more was a sacrifice worth making. Captain Cornwell had been selected for his independence and courage, and he was giving himself willingly, even if the details of what was truly to follow had been spared from him. To the general it was a price that could be met. “So be it.” And with three words, an unyielding legend began.

Captain Hadron is one of the admired heroes of the world’s greatest Supreme Team, Heavy Metal. Yet that reputation sheds little light onto his past and the uncertain future he faces. In public he is known for his rock and roll lifestyle, everyone knows the story of how friends in his high-school band nicknamed him ‘Captain Rick’ after his favorite musician, and his work with high school science programs. Hadron is often paired with Lady Cyburn as the good boy and bad girl of Heavy Metal. Behind closed doors Captain Hadron is a troubled but determined man of science.

Richard ‘Rick’ Parker was a brilliant quantum physicist, published in dozens of academic journals before completing his PhD before he turned twenty two. He was a prodigy in his chosen field, and the long-haired maverick that broke the stuffy scientist stereotype. Parker’s dissertation to achieve his PhD award focused on a theoretical explanation of the phenomena of quantum holes which posited radical new ideas. Parker’s work drew the attention of the developers of the High Intensity Hadron Accelerator/Collider (HIHAC) project situated several miles outside of Pulp City, and he was quickly headhunted for a role in designing the accelerator/collider array. The bold young man jumped at the opportunity. Although HIHAC was deemed to be a risky proposition if situated in the geologically active region of the United States West Coast, its location was chosen for the close proximity of Pulp City, itself the focus of the greatest concentration of quantum hole events. The HIHAC project was due for completion by July 1988, with full-scale experiments to be run before the end of the same year. In the year preceding a number of small-scale operations were run as construction was near to conclusion. Dr. Parker stepped up from his design work to direct oversight of the array, ironing out kinks and problems as each new trial run revealed a new issue. The brash young man earned the appreciation of his bosses as he ensured the project stayed firmly on track. Dr. Parker inspired those around him with bold and inventive solutions to every problem or setback; even if it meant he did not always strictly adhere to personal safety protocols. In late 1987 Dr. Parker was directly recalibrating part of the array when unbeknown to the HIHAC team a tumultuous conflict between Supremes broke out in Pulp City. Forgotten and Necroplane Supremes sought to unleash the power of a earth-elemental Monster, funneling the power of a dormant Quantum Hole to do so, while a motley mix of Heavy Metal and Blood Watch Heroes battled to stop them. As the power of the earth was summoned into the Monster form, this unleashed a minor earth tremor. The outpouring of quantum energy fed the tremor to become an overwhelming seismic event. At that very moment Rick Parker was examining the HIHAC array personally. Fail-safes suddenly crashed offline and the HIHAC became active, triggered by the unleashed Quantum Hole energy being detected. The seismic activity caused damage to the HIHAC tunnel housing the array, just enough to wedge shut the escape door that Parker needed.Parker’s entire world was whited out as a wave of energy raced along the array and his body was bombarded with particles which even inexplicably siphoned off the power of the nearby quantum hole. After the nanosecond assault of energy which felt as though it lasted years, Parker lay unconscious across the overloaded array. It would be days before members of Heavy Metal were able to discern what precisely had happened, but C.O.R.E. calculated the sequence of improbable events to represent a billion to one chance of occurrence. That mattered little Rick Parker. His work was damaged and potentially ruined, but worse his body was irrevocably affected and altered by the blast of particles and Quantum Hole energy that had hurtled through him. Parker’s body was quickly observed to be leaking unstable particles. It was also apparent that whatever process was taking place was killing him. Working together with C.O.R.E., Chronin, and Dr. Mercury, Parker and those Supremes were able to create gauntlet and helmet devices to regulate the particle flow from Parker’s body. What was immediately apparent was that the equipment enabled him to have incredible control over his own molecular structure and also molecules in his vicinity. In the days that followed he realized he could alter his size and fine-tune the extent of his external molecular manipulations. His transitions to giant-size required a lot of control and meant that he could not utilize other abilities when doing so, and even his transformations back to other sizes were time consuming when grown to his maximum height. However it was also clear that the loss of unstable particles from his body had only been slowed by his new equipment, and that in the future he would need to find a more permanent solution. Now viewing himself as so much more than he had been previously, and also needing the help of Heavy Metal to ensure his survival, Rick Parker became known to the world as Captain Hadron, adopting the nickname his band gave to him in high school. He has fully embraced life as a celebrity Supreme, but the scientist within is certain that mastering the phenomena of Quantum Holes will be the key to his long-term existence. He brings to Heavy Metal a positive attitude, intense and occasionally reckless scientific knowledge and curiosity, and what he thinks is great hair. He hopes with the help of his Team to stabilize and increase his powers. He also strives to unlock the mysteries of the Quantum Hole for the betterment of mankind.

For some Heroes their new lives are shaped by the pain of tragedy, while others are called to the fight against evil by their own personal crusades. A very rare few can say their new lives as heroes began simply because they were there.

Peter Stoltz was a physics major at Pulp City University, working as a lab assistant to Professor Beeching in the field of inertial physics.

Using alien metals recovered by Heavy Metal from a downed Ulthar Patriaship, Beeching had struck on a process of layering various charged sheets of the mysterious alloys to create a field that appeared to dampen or magnify the force of gravity in a highly localized area. Stoltz would then secretly test the various prototypes in rooftop sprints across the Pulp City skyline.

It was on one of these test runs that Stoltz’s new life suddenly began. Flashing across the rooftops in a modified impact-resistant suit, and clutching a balancing device (a six foot pole with an inertial generator housed at each end), Stoltz heard a desperate scream from an alley below. As Stoltz in his persona as Skyline subsequently said in an interview with the Pulp City Planet:

“I heard that scream, and something just took over. Before I knew it I had thrown myself off a six-story building. The impact suit made the fall as soft as bouncing on a feather bed. I hit the street right behind this thug standing over some poor girl, and just let him have it with my staff. Sucker flew straight through a dumpster! I saved the day and I’ve never looked back since.”

From that night on, Stoltz has operated under the guise of Skyline. Carrying the device he now calls the Spring-staff and wearing the second generation of Beeching’s inertia suit, Skyline is now a familiar, if fleeting image against the night-time panorama of Pulp City. His methods may be questioned by the police, and allegations of violence bordering on brutality are often laid at his feet, but to the common citizen he’s a local guy making good, giving the criminal filth of the city the treatment that they richly deserve.

Skyline is like a light in the darkness. Maybe that is why he and Jade Hawk were drawn together….

***Equipment: Skyline has a black cowl, with bulbous goggles tinged yellow. It covers his full head apart from his mouth and chin. His inertia suit is made of a black synthetic material, and is banded around the biceps, forearms, thighs, shins and torso. These are the metallic layers that produce the gravitic fields. These are also present in his shoes (giving Skyline slightly thickened soles). His gloves have pads on the palms that produce strong gravitic fields to enable him to adhere to any surface. There is a stylized horizon of Pulp City in a strong silver line across his chest. The Spring-staff is a 6 foot metallic rod, with a black synthetic sheathing over the gravitic generators at each end (which provide approximately a foot of cover each).

Chronologically, the original Supreme team in America. Most of them became legends of WWII, some rose to fame shortly after. Our Facebook webpage gradually introduces the entire line up – Spybreaker, A-Beast, Battlesuit 7 and others.

Not all of Heavy Metal’s members are there because they want to be a part of the most recognizable Supreme trademark. One of them is on the roster because otherwise they would be in prison. Welcome to the world of Cindy Burns, former leader of punk rock band World in Flames, February 1982’s playmate of the month, and charged with arson and attempted murder.

Cindy was never right in the head. Her obsession with violence, fire and body-modding earned her the renown of the true rock rebel at the age of 17. Her band’s first album, heavily inspired by Huxley’s work and early cyber-punk fiction, made it to the Billboard charts and Cindy was rich overnight. However, the rock star life had a high price tag, as she dropped out from school, and drugs, alcohol and sleep deprivation became her new teachers. But the real trouble started when the band was touring the world; addictions, tattoos and piercings were not enough for Cindy anymore, and so she began to modify her body with cybernetic parts.

As you all know, high tech parts and implants are NOT free in Pulp City, and Cindy had to pay her debts. Her cash pile dwindled, and as the band split up, Cindy, aged 18, was the first cyber-modified woman to make it to the hottest spreads in adult magazines. As if she wasn’t already in too much trouble, the playmate appearance attracted murders of hungry industry vultures that pushed her more and more towards the dark side.

Mark Cunning, who was infamous for a series of privately distributed videos portraying each of capital sins in the most gruesome way, saw her as an angel of death of the new age. The money he offered was, Cindy foolishly thought, a way out of the life she was in and a chance to disappear. She was to star in a movie titled Fire Woman – it was a story of a scorned woman, left to die by her boyfriend crime lord, who had become tired of her. Cindy was to place this half-human, half-machine vengeance engine of fiery death. Her body was appropriately modified further. When she asked about the screenplay, Cunning explained that he had a new method, impulse shooting, where you don’t follow a script, you just follow the protagonist.

While copies of the video was sold at private auctions for $200,000, Burns was sentenced to prison for life with charges of arson and triple murder. The case attracted the attention of all media and Supreme powers, as some claimed Burns was just a gun in Cunning’s hand, while others wanted to see her burn the way her victims did. Her mods could have not be removed without threatening her life, so for the first time, the US prison system was faced with a challenge of incarcerating a weapon of mass destruction.

As she was too dangerous to keep in a normal prison, a judicial decision allowed C.O.R.E. to take custody of Cindy in return for ten years of service by her in the cause of good.

Lady Cyburn, as she calls herself just like in the early days of her rock career, is a weird mix of broken moral system, guilt-ridden soul and a little girl awed by a burning match. Cindy finds the idea of good not much different from evil. In either case, she can still do what she likes the most!

Although the words ‘Heavy Metal’ bring to the minds of every Pulp City resident images of cutting edge technologies and almost science-fictional heroes, the origins of the Team date back to the 1940’s. As the U.S. military worked on a variety of super-soldier projects, including the ill-fated Project Metasis, a small group of scientists researched the possibilities of introducing a mechanical command unit that would enhance battlefield decisions made by human officers. That latter project failed as the imminence of D-Day preparations drew all financial support away from it towards creating a handful of Supremes to lead the assault on the beaches of Normandy.

The project codenamed O.R.B.C. (Omnipotent Replicated Battlefield Commander) existed in the annals of the US military more or less as the mechanical equivalent of the alchemists’ dream to create gold from lead. Even though support had been reduced, research continued with diminishing returns falling farther and farther short of the original high expectations.

Finally a breakthrough came in late 1960’s as the military switched to a new intercommunication system; O.R.B.C.’s computer was inadvertently connected to all of the available databases, creating massive a feedback loop that fried the O.R.B.C. circuitry and resulted in a massive explosion of the computers that governed its connection to the network.

When the smoke cleared, the scientists working on O.R.B.C. could not believe what they saw. The parts and pieces of the broken machinery hovered before them in mid air, swirling and circling as if an invisible child’s hand was trying to assemble the scattered pieces of a puzzle. Circuit joined to wire, wire to chip, chip to mainframe, and slowly a human-like being shaped itself, its blood composed of streaming data chains binding beneath and within the metal armor shell that formed.

The newly assembled entity hung in the air, almost motionless, like a giant steel hummingbird, only the silent clicking of its data processing hinting at a semblance of life and its efforts to analyze the situation. When Military Policemen burst into the room, the metal-creature instantly transformed its left arm into a round shield and its right arm into a short pike, adopting the battle stance of a disciplined Spartan warrior. Awestruck, the human staff and soldiers slowly left the room, leaving the strange visitor alone and retreating to a location where they could watch through the eye of a closed-circuit camera.

The evolved O.R.B.C. almost instantly started to rebuild or rather re-shape the room.

As days passed, the scientists were amazed to discover that it was able to adapt its body to any new situation, once in a while dispersing its form and retreating to the safety of the now repaired computers as if recharging or replenishing itself.

The arrival of the strange creature instantly became a fully-focused project, with scientists cautiously approaching and trying to communicate with it. If the being was able to process situational humor it probably would have been amused by the human’s first attempts; lacking any guidance, they adopted methods described in Tarzan stories. The being, as could be expected from something that possessed the knowledge and processing ability of a thousand linked computers, approached them and clearly laid out its goals: to research tactics and behavior patterns beyond the ones already found in the military databases it had devoured.

Over the next few months, tireless and emotionless, the being supported hundreds of military and police operations, supporting troops and commanders from the confines of its underground base. O.R.B.C. was eager to learn and modify itself further even though it had already adapted the tactics and strategies of countless masters of warfare, starting from Sun Tze to General Patton.

Everything seemed in order for those overseeing the O.R.B.C. assignment, and newly agreed steady financial support revitalized the project as the entity seemed to be the ultimate fulfillment of the project’s hopes. Things continued in a stable way until the day when one of the politicians behind the financial backing of O.R.B.C. decided to move the testing the one of the most bloodthirsty theaters of war of the era – Vietnam.

The killing fields of Vietnam were to become its first true frontline test.

The O.R.B.C. presence inspired U.S. troopers and spawned fear among the Vietcong troops. In the blazing fire of the battlefield, O.R.B.C. would build up its body to gargantuan size from the wreckage of downed choppers, resembling a huge knight armed with a rotor-blade sword, wading through fleeing guerillas, and crushing their bodies to bloody pulp. At other times, it would command troops from behind the lines, directing operations to make key strikes after having infiltrated enemy bases as a swarm of tiny mechanical spiders.

O.R.B.C.’s abilities seemed limitless, so the military commanders pushed it more and more until one day they reached a boundary that, to their absolute surprise, the mechanical wonder would not cross.

The creature was assigned to carry prototype micro-nuke bombs and plant them in a target village. As O.R.B.C. processed its resources, hopelessly searching for any similar pattern, the general in command tried a convenient lie: those are just vaccinations.

The math all suddenly became so simple: the war was over for O.R.B.C. as its Omnipotent part realized the abuse of the Battlefield Commander part. In a flash of scintillating chips and metal shards, O.R.B.C. disappeared from the face of Earth. Its engines roared as it thrust skywards to begin a space voyage that was meant to shape his programming to a new level.

…

Years passed. Returning to Earth in the early 1980′s, the cosmic wanderer was nothing like the creature that left humankind behind, flying from Earth from the jungles of Vietnam. On arrival, O.R.B.C. took over all major broadcasting stations to deliver a singular message. The creature spoke in a fiery proclamation that had every emotion calculated and measured, declaring war on villains and corrupted politicians, cruel military officers and warmongering invaders alike. Anything that violated O.R.B.C.’s core programming values and his newfound human traits of compassion and conscience would be deemed as an enemy.

The artificial lifeform formerly known as O.R.B.C. announced his changed name: C.O.R.E.: Conscious Omnipotent Replicated Entity.

C.O.R.E. spoke to a stunned world.

Suddenly this absolutely alien and inhuman being topped all of the popularity rankings, cheered in the streets by Vietnam vets and aging hippies alike. His pursuit of a new lawful and compassionate order attracted a huge following, and when more and more Supremes pledged their allegiance to C.O.R.E.’s crusade against all-things-evil, the birth of the Heavy Metal Team was imminent. The first recruits included the powerful Iron Train and tragic Dr. Mercury, soon joined by the brilliant scientist Androida. The newly formed dream team forged a solid strike force in the war on crime. They would be joined by more and more science-enhanced Supremes in the years to follow.

Unlike all other Supreme Teams, Heavy Metal had all it needed to take their fight away from the streets, able to wage information wars, reaching places that were run by juntas, evil tyrants and corrupted governments. They established education programs, financially supported righteous young lawyers and lobbied for just political solutions behind the scenes. Heavy Metal waged their ‘war’ in a revolutionary way, all under the direction of C.O.R.E.

The fledgling Team’s greatest test came with the first major Necroplane invasion, right after Dr. Tenebrous, established as the ambassador to Earth, broke diplomatic pacts when the shadows of huge harvest ships were cast across Pulp City. Every Supreme in the city, Hero and Villain alike, stood by C.O.R.E.’s side that day.

A bitter struggle ensued that claimed the lives of many would have been lost if not for the Heavy Metal leader’s epic feat that almost cost C.O.R.E. his electronic life.

C.O.R.E., summoning all his strength, and fed data by millions of computer users clogging up the internet with searches for mythical protectors, transformed himself into a massive steel dragon, later nicknamed Byte Dragon, his thick hide pulsating with streaming data transfers.

The Byte Dragon took to the air, his gargantuan tail knocking harvest ships from the sky. Even the combined might of three Necroplane Lords was not enough to stop the raging beast. Gunfire from thousands of deck cannons tore into his body, but C.O.R.E. in his Byte Dragon form kept fighting like there was no tomorrow.

Allies from Blood Watch planted holy sigils in Twilight Hills, blowing up the gate to the Necroplane in a violent, fiery blast, while Byte Dragon used every remaining effort to push the last of the ships back through the diminishing portal. As the gate crashed, the resultant rip in reality cut the beast’s body in two, and silence descended on the battlefield.

It soon emerged that at the last-second C.O.R.E. was able to download his essence into a partially destroyed Sentry Bot, and so Heavy Metal’s leader was able to rise from the ashes of the hard-won victory.

Since his return, with every passing day, C.O.R.E. is becoming more and more human. He is linked to the internet and all the databases of the world, his personality shaped with every item of news and information that he acquires. There is a growing legend that C.O.R.E. adapts his physical battle-form based on a number of online searches for heroic personas, with his current armored form resembling King Arthur. The remaining fear for some, however, is that one day somebody with ill intentions may well control C.O.R.E. for their own nefarious purposes.

Faction: Heavy Metal There is one man that knows much more than almost anyone else about Mysterious Man and who is very high on the evil mastermind’s list of targets.

Once upon a time, in the darkest alleys of New Port, two brothers led a sinful life of crime and terror. Mark Jones and Samuel Jones, Pulp City street-raised twins, were working low profile dockside jobs before becoming enrolled into Mysterious Man’s black market empire. Nature granted Samuel an ox-like build and bird-sized brain which was great when you considered his job. Mark was different in every way. Before he became one of Heavy Metal’s Supremes, Mark Jones and his twin brother eventually rose through the ranks of the Mysterious Man’s organization to run various shady operations for the overlord in the docks area. Such were their feats that the watching eye of the Mysterious Man turned their way with intent interest and he nominated them the ambassadors of his evil empire in Pulp City.

Years passed, and both had attained positions of power and influence; but unlike his brother, Mark was smart. His bro was like an anchor, dragging him down, but Mark would never lose Samuel’s loyalty or attachment. Irritated with Mark’s inability to sever this umbilical cord, Mysterious Man seized an opportunity when he faced a Heavy Metal attack. He covered his retreat using Mark’s brother… and unleashed a very furious genetically-modified dinosaur of his own creation – the Occultosaurus 17.

The rampaging dinosaur, blinded with rage and bloodlust, could not discern between the Heroes and its allies and snapped at Samuel, cutting him almost in half. Mark tried valiantly to stop it from finishing his brother, but as he bravely intervened he suffered the same horrific treatment. The beast tore the goons to pieces before the might of C.O.R.E. stopped him. One of the brothers was beyond help, but the other still lived.

Left for dead by Mysterious Man, Mark’s body was recovered by Iron Train who was so impressed by the brave action of Jones that he ensured the Team took his badly maimed body to Heavy Metal headquarters in a bid to save his life. C.O.R.E. placed Mark’s bodily remains in a medical stasis field. In the subsequent experimental process that could have killed Jones or grant him new life, the leader of Heavy Metal managed to accomplish the latter but at a high price. Using all of his downloaded knowledge, C.O.R.E. managed to revive the mutilated man’s body with cybernetics powered by an experimental nuclear reactor. To sustain his life, his body was rebuilt around a small atomic reactor, his nuclear heart.

Thus Nuclear Jones was born, half-man, half-machine, with a debt of returned life to be paid off.

Nuclear Jones is a cyborg with unevenly spread bionics. Most importantly, his torso was partly replaced by a nuclear reactor, green and glowing with a visible ‘heart’. In fact, his nuclear midsection connects his more human upper and lower bodies. The damage to his body was so extensive that parts of it had to be wholly replaced with bionics. The abdominal area that suffered the most was replaced with a miniature nuclear reactor that in case of malfunction triggers a teleportation mechanism and sends Jones somewhere safe. That safe-mode is for the security of everybody else, but not necessarily for him.

“Car 54, we have a code 1025 in progress at 827 east 32nd street at the U-Hock-It pawn shop.”

“Ten-four dispatch. This is car 54, we’re en route.”

A voice whispers in the darkness….. “Armed robbery sounds like my kind of scene.”

A dark figure leaps from the rooftop and into the shadows. The hunter has begun stalking its prey.

Only blocks away four thugs were piling TV’s, electronics, and handfuls of jewelry into the back of an old beat-up van. A pawn shop employee lay crumpled on the ground next to the loading dock. While the other three ran inside for more loot, one thug jumped into the driver’s door to start the getaway vehicle. He barely turned the key before a green claw burst through the side window and tore the man from the cab. The next thing he noticed was the unpleasant taste of asphalt and a piercing pain in his back. He barely let out a gurgle before passing out.

Two of the other thugs walked up to the van carrying a large box with a 50 inch flat screen TV. “Benny, what the heck is that?” called Freddie.

It was too late. Benny felt a sharp pain across the back of his knees before his legs gave out from underneath him. The shadowy figure leapt up from behind Benny and pounced off the box – pushing it directly onto the chest of the collapsing thug. This pulled Freddie forward and off balance just in time to receive a kick to the face.

Both thugs landed hard. The dark-clad figure was immediately on top of Freddie. Only then did Freddie get a good look at the vigilante that was ruining his night. The figure had an emerald green hawk-like mask, a dark hood and cape, and a protective bodysuit. This had to be the Jade Hawk!

Freddie started to rise when the Jade Hawk planted a glove with brutal gem-like talons onto his chest. “You’re not going anywhere,” whispered the Hawk in the criminal’s ear.

The sound of running footsteps down the alley caused the Jade Hawk to turn her head. The fourth thief was making a run for it. The vigilante was not going to let this man get away, only for the others to make some sort of plea deal to turn their buddy in for less jail time. No. She would get all of these losers… …

“Dispatch, this is car 54 requesting backup. We have a brown Chevy van license plate PLJ-459 with its engine running at the loading dock of the pawn shop. We’re going in.”

“Car 54, this is Dispatch, backup is on the way.”

Officers McCrery and Franklin began to move cautiously down the alley with weapons drawn when the fourth criminal landed on the hood of their cruiser with a dull thump. …

Less than an hour later…

“Franklin, what happened here?” asked Detective Walsh.

“Well detective, as best we can tell, the Jade Hawk beat us to the scene again. The Hawk took out these four lowlifes robbing the pawn shop. Their prints are all over everything in the van. It seems pretty cut and dry. At least the store employee will be okay.”

“Cut and dry? We can’t have another costumed hooligan running wild in the streets meting out justice on a whim. There are laws in this town. Heroes are supposed to fight villains and leave the regular crime to the police. We have four criminals that need hospitalization here. You don’t see Iron Train pulling this kind of bull! The chief wants the Jade Hawk in handcuffs and off the streets!!!”

ABOUT THE JADE HAWK The Jade Hawk is a dark figure that stalks the criminal element of Pulp City. Heroes are not generally fond of her methods but cannot deny the results. When Heavy Metal or Blood Watch find themselves hunting the same prey, Heroes like Iron Train and Red Riding Hoodoo try to mitigate the Jade Hawk’s sheer brutality. None knows exactly why she is on this crusade, but whispers from the dark vigilante seem to imply that lady justice failed her some time ago.

Evildoers owe her an unpaid debt. The Jade Hawk plans to collect on this debt – in pain and blood.

Sergeant Richard Bale died on an unrecorded mission, earing a burial place in Arlington as well as the star-spangled flag draping his coffin, his interment marked gun shots that rang in the sky and the tears of his beautiful wife.

A recognizable tale, if not for the fact that he already died once in the minds of the rest of his world.

Joining the secret Omega Occult team of the US Army equaled ‘death’. Families received notification that their serving died in an accident. Recruits then spent the rest of their lives on covert missions or deep in the force’s underground base with four teammates all similarly burnt out from living that zombie life as they were. Recruits died a silent death and nobody would shed a tear over the life they lost in the service of their country.

Today, Bale never talks about why he joined Omega Occult. It may be deduced that many of the events of his early childhood pushed him that way. He rarely speaks about his missions while serving unless the information is relevant to the latest supernatural threat that Blood Watch is combating.

But he will repeat the story of how he died the second time just to make the curious stop asking questions.

Neither Rich nor any of his Omega Occult team knew why they were sent to the lush jungles of Cambodia. It was pretty common for them to receive briefings right after they parachuted from their stealth transport. This time was different, and the shift in the pattern sent chills down Bale’s spine.

Their local guide handed them the envelope containing their orders: follow the guide; shoot the guide once at the destination; and recover the target from the lower levels of an abandoned temple. The executed each stage of their orders to the letter, quickly arriving at the temple. …

Call-sign Tank Red, the unit’s weapons specialist, exchanged the muzzle on the gun after unloading a wall of firepower, while Bale deciphered the glyphs on the ruined walls of Beng Mealea temple, using his specialist training.

Ichiro died first as a huge chunk of the naga statue crushed his body, his blood draining into the cracks of the floor. This was the first true Omega Occult death in five years. The second and third happened almost simultaneously as the floor broke and two more fell down into the dark water below. A hiss echoed in the darkness and the water exploded with seven lashing reptilian heads of doom. Bale dodged at the last second, while Tank Red fired up his battle-suit rocket boots and flew for the surface through the cracked hole in the ceiling.

Rich was left alone facing the massive beast, a creature clearly far more intelligent than its form suggested. The behemoth whispered into his mind: Fight me? Rich knew then that this was an assignment beyond the usual good and evil, he knew that more than his life is at stake.

The reptilian heads struck at him again. Bale waited calmly and in the last moment grabbed one to ride it like a cowboy on a bucking bull. The beast tried to shake him off, trying to crush him against the wall but to no avail. Bale just waited as the six remaining heads hunted for the burdened seventh. He leapt from head to head, and watched them kill the next in turn until there was only one left.

Out of options, the last man standing of Omega Occult fired his entire clip into the gaping mouth of the dragon as the beasts flaming breath engulfed him. The fire felt good, cleansing, forging a bond between the ancient creature and its slayer. Rich fell into the water, his right arm burnt as the shrinking dragon snaked around it, leaving a mysterious tattoo and thus sealing the Dragon’s Pact.

It would all have seemed a bizarre and horrific nightmare if not for the fact that a small flame danced on Bale’s hand, guiding his way. The union with the dragon made him strong and powerful. …

Six months later Richard Bale infiltrated the HQ of Omega Occult, a place he had called home. He was not here to pick up his stuff, as he headed straight for the commander’s office. No robot, no beast and no soldier could stand in the way of his dragon’s fury. Sgt. Bale burned his way through all resistance, the dragon on his arm seeming almost alive as it spewed flame on all his enemies and ignited their bullets.

The journey ended fast and Bale had only one question: Why?

They do not have to divulge details, but villains at gunpoint always talk and talk and talk. So Sgt. Richard Bale learned all he wanted and even more. Omega Occult’s top brass had decided that better a one man army with the ancient power of dragons than a team of five replaceable covert operatives. The dragon had to choose only one as its champion. A new occult contact, a woman of great power, promised that more soldiers would be able to fuse their bodies with ancient beasts, to promote US military interests. Bale could be the leader of a new hybrid Omega Occult.

A flaming bullet to the head of his ex-commander was a clear answer to this promotion opportunity.

The US military acted swiftly to cover up a very unfortunate chain of events, and so Sgt. Richard Bale had a second funeral, amid a newly concocted story about his death while defending American security.

Sgt. Bale and his dragon powers went on the run, and sought a refuge, as he knew he was too powerful and too dangerous to return to his twice-widowed wife. He was approached by many: government agents; power-hungry tyrants; the woman that claims she knows the spirit that slumbers in him. He rejected them all, accepting an offer from the mysterious V.H. and her Blood Watch Team, finding a home at last. They all accepted his grim presence because none of them doubted his loyalty and total dedication to a greater good. His journey later took him into alliance with The Way, the Dragon charting that path. Yet if Bale’s allies in both Factions only knew about Bale’s nightmares of a seven-headed dragon setting the world ablaze and bowing in front of a snake goddess…

Today she is one of the most respected and powerful women in Pulp City – Androida has come a very long way in her personal journey, and her path has seen her face danger many times over.

More than a decade ago, she was the only perfect artificial intelligence to still walk the Earth. Unfortunately, that breakthrough discovery was kept secret, deep within the hidden laboratories of the insane scientist, and Androida’s brilliant creator, Dr. Van Der Beek.

A man who had shepherded some of America’s earliest Supreme developments, the malign Van Der Beek had retreated from view, pursuing science for his own twisted ends. It was this man who gave Androida the spark of life just for only one reason: to satisfy his own broken lust. Thus, one of the most incredible inventions to come from any human mind ultimately served as a degraded sex toy.

Guilt and shame were never conceived as a part of Androida’s personality matrix. Instead the realization and understanding of the circumstances of her creation only occurred when at last Heavy Metal tracked down Van Der Beek and his clandestine laboratory. Androida was plugged into Van Der Beek’s massive computer bank when a huge accidental power surge connected her mind to the internet which her mad scientist creator-master was continuously monitoring. In that moment her artificial mind downloaded most of the nascent information web’s content. In that instant she was changed forever.

With awakened consciousness came realization, and with that burgeoning insight came fury and a violent need to take revenge for years of degrading humiliation. Ironically, Van Der Beek died in the arms of his dream woman, his own creation, as she crushed his thorax in her searing rage. With the blood of her maker on her hands, Androida swore then to protect humankind and safeguard those who would be preyed upon by vile men such as her creator. In those harrowing moments, Heavy Metal’s leader, C.O.R.E., saw Androida as a new life-form, one needing a home and purpose, and he immediately extended an invitation to join the team. Soon Androida was an integral member of the group, as she became one of the most prominent Supremes in Pulp City.

Just a few short weeks after she joined the team, Heavy Metal confronted a new threat in town – the atomic-powered Nuke. While fighting the monstrous Villain, Androida realized that the destructive nuclear Supreme somehow had a link to things that were meant to be buried in the grave of Van Der Beek. The dead do not rest in Pulp City and Androida remains keen to solve the puzzles of Dr. Van Der Beek’s legacy. What she finds may lead to even darker revelations, although every path has led to a dead end so far, and even after years she has yet to make a breakthrough in her investigations.

Following her emergence from Van Der Beek’s thrall, Androida became the first non-human professor teaching at Pulp City University, combining double degrees in Computer Science and Gender Studies to present unique courses regarding artificial intelligence, sociology and ethics. A combative and emancipated feminist, she turned down the offer of a lucrative modeling contract from Tirelli. Not even the chance of being the star of their prestigious and artsy calendar tempted her to leave the university or compromise her beliefs as she became one of the world’s most popular Supreme heroines.

Most recently Pulp City and the world was shocked when the Heroes of Heavy Metal were brutally attacked by the apparently temporally-displaced Red Republik. After a protracted battle which caused massive collateral damage, the Villains were driven off but at great cost. As the smoke cleared, Androida lay badly broken, her body mangled and twisted beyond repair. The team acted quickly to stabilize her memory and personality core, terrified they would lose their friend. Over the next several weeks Androida guided C.O.R.E., Dr. Mercury and M.O.D. to build a new physical body into which she uploaded her consciousness, relying on the reluctant assistance of Vector as an expert in digital mind transference. Her 2.0 form is faster, more resilient and has a number of upgrades. But deep within Androida’s psyche, the scars of that vicious assault by the Red Republik still remain.

As a vital cog in the Heavy Metal machine, Androida acts often as a public relations representative and face of the Team, while on battlefield she employs her tremendous speed and cunning mind to achieve their goals while minimizing risk to innocent civilians.